


no roman candles lit on the night that he died

by bravelove



Category: The Order of the Stick
Genre: Burial Kinda, Closure, Funeral kinda, Gen, I just want them to have a conversation, Post canon, Sibling Bonding, They're both probably so very ooc as I have never actually written oots before but sh, ghost summoning, i am still an unapologetic nale stan, they both deserved so much better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravelove/pseuds/bravelove
Summary: Here Lies NaleHe was not a very good brother, but he was my brother nonetheless, and I loved him.
Relationships: Elan & Nale
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	no roman candles lit on the night that he died

**Author's Note:**

> I looped RIP Everyone like 2 million times writing this

It was a dark night, even though it was a bit cliche, but perfect for what was about to be done. After some trial and error, he started a fire in, the pit and a carved piece of wood emblazoned with magical runes and stuffed with spell components were beginning to burn. The clearing was clear, and there were no clouds in the sky, a perfect night. 

Sitting down on a nearby log, Elan absentmindedly wiped off his dirty hands and plucked at his lute, mind churning to think of a song. Technically for what he was doing, he didn’t need a song, but it never hurt to add in some of that bard magic, and it was fun—settling on a pattern that sounded nice as the smoke thickened over the fire, more thickly than any normal fire would have. He closed his eyes softly began to sing; while he usually was one for larger than life songs, you don’t become a bard of his level without learning the time for something more subdued.

_ “Boy, oh boy, what have you done. _

_ Your ploy is over, and the battle’s never won. _

_ Forced to rest, revenge never finished. _

_ You said you were the best; prove you aren’t diminished. _

_ Come to me though I wish not for a favor or your ire. _

_ But only for my voice to not waver as I play my lute _

_ Perhaps I’m making a mistake; maybe I’m set up to fail. _

_ Even so, for my sake, I ask you, Nale, to tell me that to my face.” _

He could feel the power of a bard song, even one as soft and gently plucked like this swirl around him, as he had not cast a spell, the magic just dances as he continues to pluck the lute, unknown to any but a trained bard. With a sudden crack from the log in the fire, Elan opened his eyes, and there he was, standing on top of the cracked in half log in the fire, was a ghostly image of his brother. At one point, perhaps Elan would have mistaken him for himself. It had been years though Nale didn’t look a day over the day he died, an aspiring villain in their early 20’s; while Elan knew he was reaching his early thirties, it felt wrong to see the face that always looked just like his, appear so young. 

They just stared at each other for a split second before Nale rolled his eyes with a scoff and broke the quiet music that had floated over the area. “I see your playing is still utterly awful.”

With a huff and feeling a bit defensive like he always had around Nale, Elan responded, “Well, it was good enough to draw you here, Nale!”

Nale clicked his tongue before responding, “Eh, it’s not like I had a chance to refuse with whatever you used to summon me here. Break a new fancy magic item? Would just be like you to mess up that badly.”

“Oh! I had V make it for me, I paid them for some of the supplies, and they took it as a challenge. Still in the prototype phase, but V gave me one that they considered to be viable if not up to their standards.” Elan cheerfully responded, perking up at the chance to hype up one of his friends.

Nale rolled his eyes again, “Ah yes, the elf, how I wish I could have been allowed to forget. Can I go now?”

Elan quickly jumped up from the log, eyes wide, “No! No. Not yet. I only just brought you here!”

Nale gave a sneer, his arms crossing at the words, “So it was on purpose then? Whatever, I’d thought you’d have known better that I’m not a cog in anyone’s wheels anymore, whatever great world-ending adventure you’re on now that made you call me of all people is none of my concern.” With a gesture of his hand, suddenly an illusory dagger buried itself in his chest, just like the one that had killed him, “I think I have made my stance on being another person’s pawn was made very clear.”

Silence spread over the area as Elan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the barrage before he spoke again. “I just wanted to see you one last time.”

A beat passed, and Nale suddenly started to laugh, a full chest laugh, not an evil maniacal laugh like he was used to from Nale when he was alive, but an actual genuine laugh. “What?? You emotionally soft-hearted fool! Just to talk?! How stupid can you get??? I thought I had seen the depths of your stupidity Elan, I was wrong! I was so wrong! How much more stupid do you get!”

Not bothering to respond to that, Elan sat back on their log, looking up at Nale. There were a million things he wanted to say, all rushing to leave his mouth in a torrent, but he knew that wouldn’t work on Nale. He had to be slower, more cautious, like trying to get a drink of water at night knowing if you accidentally stepped on Mr. Scruffy’s tail, Belkar would decapitate you. He wasn’t good at slow, but that never stopped him before.

As Nale’s laughing tapered off, Elan blurted out the first thing he thought of as he couldn’t hold back his questions anymore, “Did you regret it?” Internally he slapped himself. What a stupid thing to ask! He dug his fingers into his lute. He hadn’t felt so awkward since he was a younger bard.

“No.” Elan’s head snapped up at the sudden and curt response, looking at his brother in surprise as they spoke more. “No, I don’t. I got what I wanted in the end, I did everything right, and nothing will ever change my mind. If you aren’t happy about me not suddenly crying about how I wish I were good or whatever, I don’t care. I got my own victory in the end.”

Elan couldn’t help a small smile at that. It was just so Nale, he hadn’t realized he had missed it. “Well, that’d just be silly! Of course, you don’t regret being evil; you’re Nale! I wasn’t expecting you to be good now or whatever that’s not you! I was just wondering if you had wished you had done the whole evil thing differently. If maybe you wished your last words were different.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just call me the evil twin and leave it at that. You always were so simple like that.” Nale mocked, though Elan could see tightness in his shoulders.

“Nah, it’s not like we’re really twins anymore; besides, that trope is old and tired.” Elan said with a shrug, “Da- Tarquin tried that trick. I let him fall. I don’t think either of us appreciates being put in a group like that anymore these days.”

“Must have had a funny look on his face when that happened...” Nale mumbled, seemingly not noticing Elan had heard it. “Whatever, you got your answer. Why am I still here?”

Plucking a few notes, Elan took a deep breath, “I miss you. More than I thought I would. I knew I would, but not to this level. I sometimes wonder why I haven’t seen you for so long. After all the twin dynamics we had? That’s supposed to only end in a dramatic final encounter or one of them turning the other to their side, turning the other into more of an antihero! A tragedy but a tragedy with closure. Then I remember that as much as d- Tarquin might have tried, the universe doesn’t work like that. Sure I know my stories, but every good story has a twist or changes the formula somehow! Still, I miss you.”

“Then you’re a fool, I hate you, and you should hate me, Elan! I hate everything you stand for! I hate who you are, and I hate what you’ve done! Why can’t you get that into your head!” Nale yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration.”

With a few more plucks of notes, Elan answered, “Because my last memories of you are you declaring that you killed my friend’s killer and you standing up to a tyrant despite every reason you had been raised to not. You were evil, but you didn’t deserve to go out like that. Despite it all, you were still my brother.” With that, the clearing had gone silent again. The twins just stared at each other before Elan spoke again, “Look. you can go soon, I know you hate me, this was stupid, but I just gotta do one thing first.”

Nale looked away with a huff and waved his hand. “Get it over with you sentimental fool then.”

Reaching in his bag, Elan pulled out what looked like a lidded vase thing. It was black and swirled with a red that reminded him a bit of Sabine. “Okay, this is gonna seem totally weird but, you didn’t get any kind of funeral or anything, so I thought we could do it together? Give our arc an actual resolution this time? I’ll never contact you again after it, promise! I just need something better to remember you by then the sight of your disintegrating corpse. So I got this urn made! We can bury it in place of your body; it’s filled with sand and this gross animal skull I found. That’s kinda evil enough for you, right?”

Nale seemed to stare at the urn in shock and mild disgust before tilting his head with a sigh, “I suppose there is no stopping this, whatever it is. If it will let me leave your disgusting Sunday tv special radius faster, do it.”

With a nod, Elan eyed the log, it was mostly burned away by now, but Elan could guess they still had some time. Standing back up, clutching the urn close, Elan moved a bush to reveal a grave already dug, “I had to dig this ahead of time because I didn’t know how much time you’d get.” 

Then with determination, he heaved the urn into the grave. Putting down his lute as he picked back up the shovel to fill the hole. The two were silent until the dirt was all patted down, and Elan wiped some sweat from his brow. Looking down at the new grave, complete with a tombstone that Elan had engraved himself, Elan felt a bit better. “Well, I guess I should say something, huh? Nale, you were a cruel person, and you put me through a lot, but you were my brother, and I cared for you on some level. You hurt so many people, and I can never forgive you for that, but you were also the person who had the guts to stand up for what you believed in even when everyone else would tell you to cower, and I can admire that. I can respect everything you spat in Tarquin’s face, and I can respect what you taught me through you being there. I wish you could have been there to help us beat him. You should have been there to torment us; further, it felt like a piece lost without you and the linear guild. So goodbye, I love you, Nale” now Elan felt a lot better.

Staring at his own grave, Nale’s face twisted a bit, as if he wasn’t sure if he should speak, but as he loved to hear his own voice, he caved. “Well, this was certainly a lot. I hate you, Elan, I truly do. I hate you for so much. However, I can respect that you were a better bard and storyteller than he ever was, at least. One of these days, I’ll find a way back, and I’ll kill you myself, Elan, so you better not die before then. I have plans in the making, don’t you forget about me, or do, it’ll make it easier to kill you!”

Elan gave a small chuckle, “Yeah, I won’t, don’t worry.” Elan lapsed into silence again before blurting out something that had been on his mind lately, “You know, you kinda remind me of mom.” 

With a deadpan, Nale just said, “I threatened to kill you.’

Elan waved a hand, “No, no! You both really like complicated plans! She would get super into her plans and overcomplicate everything as you do! I think she would have been proud of how you stood up to Tarquin, probably not everything else, but I think she would light a candle for you if I told her what happened.”

Nale went stone silent at that before sighing. “This is why I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“I know, Nale.”

“Though if this is the last time I’ll get to speak to the living, I suppose I should tell you all of Tarquin’s embarrassing secrets, I  _ guess.  _ Wouldn’t do if they just died out. Someone needs to remember the bastards less than elegant moments. Who am I to deny someone the opportunity to hear me talk.”

“If you want to share, then sure!”

“You can keep playing if you want while I tell. It sounds so terrible it’ll be doubly insulting to him to have such stories told with terrible music.”

“Alright, Nale.”

“You know he used to have darker armor? I’m talking pitch black. Apparently, it was the villain style of the month. Anyways he got heatstroke; it was hilarious. Then another time, there was the fight with the four clerics...”

So Elan played, and Nale Continued to talk, and if Nale noticed Elan putting a second log in after the first story, then he didn’t say anything. They still hated each other, but at least now they could remember each other as who they are, and not what the last moments were. They could share one night in a pseudo truce as brothers. Brothers who should have had so much more but will make do with what they have. They’d never speak to the other again after this night, having nothing more to say, but the night was still young, and they had a lot to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Me holding up Nale: I just think he's neat and full of potential for cool plots


End file.
